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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/26246689">At Journey's Beginning</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cinnaberry/pseuds/Cinnaberry'>Cinnaberry</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Final Fantasy XIV</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Drabble Collection, Final Fantasy XIV: Shadowbringers Spoilers, Gen, M/M, Named Warrior of Light (Final Fantasy XIV), Other, Patch 5.3: Reflections in Crystal Spoilers, Post-Patch 5.3: Reflections in Crystal, Rating May Change, Tumblr: FFXIVwrite2020, Unnamed Warrior of Light (Final Fantasy XIV), no beta we die like men</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-09-02</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-09-30</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 13:20:31</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Graphic Depictions Of Violence</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>30</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>16,606</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/26246689</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cinnaberry/pseuds/Cinnaberry</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>A collection of short stories written for the FFXIVwrite 2020 challenge, mostly centering on G'raha and post-5.3 adventures with a couple stories about my FFXIV OCs thrown in.</p><p>
  <b>9/30/2020 - Complete!</b>
</p><p>「 Day 30: Splinter 」<br/></p><blockquote>
  <p>G'raha's hands were that of a scholar, of an archer - the calluses he had were from pens and the nocks of arrows, not from tools and manual labor. Despite this, his determination for taking on challenges outside his realm of experience had already proven to be nothing but admirable, and it was with that same determination that he, a man who had never crafted anything in his life outside of a meal, decided to make something of wood. </p>
</blockquote>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>G'raha Tia | Crystal Exarch &amp; Warrior of Light, G'raha Tia | Crystal Exarch/Warrior of Light</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>26</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>73</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Day 1: Crux (G'raha & WoL)</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Hello hello! Thank you so much for taking a look! I'm actually getting in at the start of the challenge this year, so maybe I'll actually finish all of the prompts. Today, I bring you soft G'raha. Tomorrow, who knows?</p>
    </blockquote><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>G'raha Tia and Ambiguous Warrior of Light<br/>Rating: G</p><p>Crux<br/>OR<br/><i>G'raha Comes to a Decision</i></p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>G'raha Tia, in his long and accomplished life, had made many decisions. Some were ambitious and most were trivial; some decisions were smart ones, while others were, in hindsight, arguably foolish and high on his wish list of post-enlightenment do-overs. Many of his decisions had been easy ones to make. Only a precious few had been incredibly difficult.</p>
<p>The one that he had to make now, he reasoned, stood far above the rest as possibly one of the <em> most </em> difficult.</p>
<p>"Where would I like to go…?" he questioned softly, echoing the Warrior's words from mere moments beforehand as his ears flattened out parallel to his shoulders. His companion nodded in confirmation, a warm smile spreading across their lips, hand lifting to gesture vaguely in encouragement.</p>
<p>"You are no longer bound to your duties here, right?" they expanded, folding their arms over their chest matter-of-factly. "And after so long in the First and being unable to travel far from the Tower, I’m sure your legs are aching with wanderlust. You’re free, now, to do as you wish, wherever you wish. So, where would you like to go?”</p>
<p>It was an entirely foreign concept for G’raha, despite having already entertained the thought once in a brief flicker of selfish glee. The Miqo’te sat staring at the Warrior of Light, looking positively bewildered at the notion of just… <em> leaving </em> to <em> go places </em> for <em> fun</em>, and yet the Warrior did so so <em> readily </em> that they made it seem like just another part of their journeys. Was it really so easy to just explore the world? He had his doubts.</p>
<p>"W-well, surely there are pressing matters here to attend to," G’raha argued, rubbing his hands together on the tabletop as his tail flicked anxiously against the legs of the chair. "I’ve only just joined the Scions of the Seventh Dawn, of course, and I--"</p>
<p>"G’raha."</p>
<p>"--would be loathe to make a poor impression of myself by leaving for something as unimportant as <em> sightseeing</em>--"</p>
<p>"G’raha."</p>
<p>"--when tensions in Garlemald could come to a head at any time--"</p>
<p>"<em>Raha</em>."</p>
<p>The Warrior’s final and insistent interjection brought G’raha’s verbal avalanche to a screeching halt, ears bolting straight upright from their previously horizontal orientation, his tail thumping heavily just once against the wood of his seat. Ah. He’d been rambling, hadn’t he? Pink rose to his cheeks, and his ears flicked, eyes following suit as he glanced away at anything other than the person sitting across from him. The Warrior could only smile fondly, and they reached out to gently pat the other man’s worrying fingers. "I can guarantee you that the Scions will not mind if you take a short vacation. You’re more than due for one, and I can safely say that they agree. Don’t worry so much."</p>
<p>G’raha winced, then, but only from the recognition that the Warrior was, in fact, right. Just yesterday, Krile had been practically <em> begging </em> him to take a respite in the wake of hearing every last detail of her friend’s tribulations over the past couple of centuries, and he was certain that he’d receive much of the same from those that had actually <em> been </em> to the First. A soft laugh bubbled up from his throat as he ducked his head, shaking it gently.</p>
<p>"No, you’ve the right of it," he admitted with a sheepish smile. "I suppose it wouldn’t hurt for a short while. My apologies, it’s simply… difficult for me to accept this newfound freedom, sometimes."</p>
<p>The Warrior laughed, leaning forward on the table to brace their elbows on it with a wide grin. "And such is the secret intent of the trip. If you can actually see the world, maybe you’ll start to believe it."</p>
<p>"Ah, and here I thought we were past keeping secrets," G’raha replied with a more certain laugh. His expression quickly shifted, though, into something a bit more reminiscent of his younger self, eyes glittering with an unspoken eagerness. “Alright, then. If I am to be carried along for a ride across the realm, I believe I know exactly where I would like to start."</p>
<p>"Oh?" the Warrior asked, tilting their head in curiosity. "And where would that be?"</p>
<p>G’raha paused for a moment, more for a dramatic effect than actual thought, then tipped his own head, letting his ears flick fondly. "I’d like to start at <em> your </em> start. Your beginning. It has ever been my fondest wish to walk the path of a hero, and there is much and more that I still do not know about you."</p>
<p>This time, it was the Warrior’s turn to sit in surprised silence. It lasted for only a moment, however, before soft laughter broke the quiet, and the Warrior shook their head. "I’d argue that you’ve already walked that path yourself, you know. But, I guess it’s only fair."</p>
<p>G’raha felt his cheeks warming once more, but this time with the delight and anticipation of the beginning of a new and exciting journey. "Right, then. Shall we set off tomorrow morning?"</p>
<p>"Tomorrow morning,” the Warrior agreed, lifting their hand to press one finger to their lips with a mischievous smile. "But I’m not telling you where we’re going. One last secret, for the sake of suspense."</p>
<p>"An acceptable caveat," G’raha answered, tail waving behind him in a series of arcs and loops. "I’ve waited this long, after all. What’s one more day?”</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Follow me on twitter @ <a href="http://www.twitter.com/lalafell_txt">lalafell_txt</a>!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Day 2: Sway (G'raha & WoL)</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>G'raha Tia and Ambiguous Warrior of Light<br/>Rating: G</p><p>Sway<br/>OR<br/><i>G'raha Experiences a Boat</i></p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>"Wicked white," G'raha groaned quietly, "I think I'm going to be sick."</p><p>The poor Miqo’te stood heavily draped over the railing of the ship, letting it support his weight as if his legs belonged to a newborn fawn. The hair that wasn't pinned back from his face clung to it with a sheen of cold sweat, and his eyes remained squeezed tightly shut to keep from seeing the choppy Rhotano waters, his ears and tail limp and listless. Of course, nothing that he could do would keep him from feeling the back and forth sway of the waves carrying them onward, and briefly he'd wondered if, perhaps, he'd somehow wronged Llymlaen in his brief time back in the Source.</p><p>The Warrior had some brief business to attend to in Kugane, and without hesitation, G'raha had asked to tag along. It had been quite a long time since he had traveled by boat - by his memory, anyway - but he'd distinctly remembered never having any issues with seasickness when traveling to and from the Sharlayan mainland. What a surprise it was, then, for it to be affecting him as such now. Perhaps staying tucked away below deck with his nose in a book had helped back then, but even that wasn't working anymore. For the next fortnight, he was at the mercy of the sea.</p><p>G'raha's ears picked up the soft sound of sailors laughing at his misfortune somewhere in the distance, but if he were to be completely honest, he couldn't blame them. He must have made for quite the sight, especially in comparison to his traveling companion, who seemed to have no trouble at all with the tossing and turning of the ship. Perhaps the blessing of the Echo prevented seasickness.</p><p>And, speak of the devil-- "Are you alright?" the Warrior asked, coming seemingly out of nowhere to place a concerned hand on G'raha's shoulder. G'raha's ears twitched up, active for the first time since shortly after setting sail, but the rest of him declined to move.</p><p>"Ah, it's nothing," he answered, pausing to inhale deeply through his nose. "It's been… a long time since I've traveled by boat, I'm afraid. The movement is unsettling my stomach a bit, but I'll be alright."</p><p>"You look about ten seconds away from passing out," the Warrior countered, their tone flat enough to make G'raha's ears flatten back down in embarrassment. "Have you eaten?"</p><p>"Only the sandwich before boarding."</p><p>"That was <em> bells </em> ago."</p><p>"And I am loathe to eat anything else, considering how intent my stomach seems to be on ridding itself of even that," G'raha answered, lowering his head to rest against his folded arms.</p><p>To his side, the Warrior folded their arms and frowned. "You should at least sip some cool water and sit somewhere dark," they instructed, and their tone brooked no argument. "Go back to your quarters. I'll see if I can round up some medicine."</p><p>For the first time, G'raha lifted his head, peering up at the Warrior in wide-eyed surprise. "I-I'll be alright, truly--"</p><p>"Of course you will, as soon as you start taking care of yourself," the Warrior replied, and with no further argument they turned away to find the captain, leaving G'raha clutching the railing and blinking.</p><p>It really was amazing - for someone that had so often been the silent hero - how much sway they could hold when they <em> did </em> speak.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Day 3: Muster (Exarch & OC WoL)</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>The Crystal Exarch and Kha'li Lakari (OC Lalafellin WoL)<br/>Rating: G</p><p>Muster<br/>OR<br/><i>A Lalafell on a Mission</i></p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Kha'li Lakari was a lalafell on a mission.</p><p>Ever since her arrival on the First, there had been telltale clues as to the identity of the mysterious Crystal Exarch. The first and <em> biggest,</em> of course, being not just the fact that the Exarch claimed to have no idea who G'raha Tia was, but also the fact that he had hesitated just slightly before answering. Anyone else might not have noticed, but she was the daughter of an Ul'dahn merchant and a shrewd businesswoman in her own right. Reading people was as easy as reading a ledger, and this was no exception</p><p>There was always the chance, of course, that perhaps the Exarch had summoned the Tower from a time prior to their excursion into it, but based on his reaction, she somehow doubted that that was the case.</p><p>That brought the question of <em> why.</em> Why was he pretending not to know? Assuming that the Exarch <em> was </em>G'raha, he was certainly making every effort to disguise the fact. She wasn't quite sure if it was her height or something else, but she just couldn't seem to get a good look under the shadows of that hood no matter what angle she tried. Probably a glamour, if she had her guess, but even if she couldn't see any eye markings, the shape of the Exarch's lips gave away that he was, at the very least, a Mystel. She'd never had cause to pay attention to G'raha's lips, so that detail hadn't been committed to memory for easy comparison.</p><p>But there was one thing that <em> had </em> been. Small as she was in comparison to pretty much everyone else, Kha'li had had many an opportunity to see the tails of Miqo’te up close and personal. G'raha's, in particular, had been long and extremely fluffy. This she remembered <em> very </em> well, despite there having been a copious amount of ale involved; it had been the ale that made her so temporarily infatuated with how soft it was, after all. She hadn't apologized for cuddling and petting it after the fact, either - she wasn't ashamed.</p><p>So, what of his tail, then? Regardless of whether or not the Exarch was G'raha, a Mystel should have a tail, and the Exarch seemed to have none. It was either well-hidden beneath the robes, or completely non-existent - and if the former was the case, she'd have thought she would have seen it move by now. However, rumor around the Crystarium said that a couple of people swore they'd seen a tail beneath the robes a time or two, and knowing this, Kha'li couldn't very well just sit and wonder.</p><p>Thus, the mission. It took a considerable amount of time to enact - not only did she need to find the perfect opening, but she needed to muster the courage to <em> do</em>. What she was about to attempt was not going to be easy, but hells, someone had to do it. She just so happened to be perfect for the job.</p><p>Her moment came during an opportune gathering in the Ocular some time after Titania had been successfully vanquished. The twins had been arguing - or, rather, Alisaie had been threatening to shove Alphinaud into a wall over something or other that he'd said, while poor Alphinaud held his hands up in surrender - and all eyes were elsewhere, which left her completely open. One would expect that a two-fulm-and-ten-ilm-tall bright pink lalafell would be easier to see sneaking around, but due to the situation the element of surprise was entirely hers, and she found herself grinning at the prospect of <em> finally </em> sating her curiosity.</p><p>After all, it was that two-fulm-and-ten-ilm height that allowed her to slip right under the skirts of the Exarch's robes.</p><p>The Exarch's resulting squawk of alarm dragged the attention of everyone else back to him, and then to the lalafell currently falling back on her ass on the floor. Rather than look ashamed, however, she simply looked bewildered. There was no tail there. <em> No tail.</em> How could that be possible…? He was Mystel, and she had been <em> certain </em> that more than one person claiming the same rumor meant that it was true. </p><p>With everyone else's attention now on <em> her,</em> though, Kha'li shook off the surprise and got to her feet, brushing non-existent dust from her breeches. "Whoops, sorry! Dropped my earring," she explained, training her expression into a grin as she reached up to firmly pat the Exarch's hand in reassurance, then leaned in with her voice lowering to a stage whisper. "Don't worry, your secret is safe with me."</p><p>Exactly <em> what </em> secret, though, she didn't say. All the same, beneath the shadows of the Exarch's hood, the man's face flushed a lovely pink.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Day 4: Clinch (FFXIV OC)</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Alaqa Spitfire (OC Xaelan Non-WoL)<br/>Rating: M (violence)</p><p>Clinch<br/>OR<br/><i>Alaqa Breaks a Horn (Not His)</i></p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The warm season was upon the Steppe, and with it came a shift in the semi-nomadic tribes. Livestock needed fresh pastures, and the turning of the season was the best time for it, so as to ensure no one location became over-grazed.</p><p>The Horo encampment, freshly erected by the river not three turns of the sun before, buzzed with the activity of a usual afternoon. Women were in the process of preparing dinner while the men tended the sheep, and the children were scattered all over the place doing any number of things. The popular chore for girls of just about any age involved aiding their mothers or watching smaller children, but the boys were often tasked with helping with the animals or catching fish from the river - the latter of which, especially during the summer, almost always involved horsing around in the water once enough had been caught.</p><p>The splashing that day, however, was not accompanied by the delighted yelling of adolescent boys. Instead, the air was filled with the sounds of angry shouting.</p><p>A crowd had formed at the riverside, made up of the boys that normally took it upon themselves to catch enough fish for drying. They formed the general shape of a ring around two figures, one far smaller than the rest of the group.</p><p>"Go back to your mother, <em> khurga</em>," the taller boy sneered, and with emphasis he stepped forward, shoving at the smaller boy's chest and sending him stumbling back a step or two towards the shoreline. "We don't need your bad luck infecting us."</p><p>"With you around, we'll only catch minnows!" another boy in the crowd added, triggering an uproar of laughter.</p><p>The smaller boy - Alaqa, for that was the name given to him upon his birth to confuse evil spirits - bared his teeth in anger, fiery red eyes narrowed. "I can catch fish, too! Bigger than yours, even!"</p><p>The taller boy laughed, humorless and cruel. "With those tiny arms? I doubt it. Girls should be helping in the kitchen, not catching fish."</p><p>"I'm <em> not </em> a girl!" Alaqa growled, clenching his fists at his sides.</p><p>"Oh yeah?" the taller boy retorted, taking a step closer. "Your horns are small. Your legs are short. You even have a girl's name. Your mother keeps you inside so much, it's a wonder you haven't developed breasts. Your older brothers are normal, why aren't you?" </p><p>"Shut <em> up,</em>" Alaqa snarled, taking a bold step forward himself - and then another, and another, until he was mere inches from the other boy. "You keep talking, and I'll make sure you can't!"</p><p>The taller boy shoved him, then, harder than he had before. Alaqa stumbled back, the force of it knocking him so off-balance that within seconds, he was on his back in the shallow water. The sound of the current deafened him, rushing around his horns and disorienting him long enough for the taller boy to leap on him, pinning him to the ground and briefly knocking the breath from his lungs.</p><p>"You want to say that again, <em> shavij</em>?" the boy hissed, roughly grabbing Alaqa's horns and holding his head down in the water to where only his nose and mouth were above the surface. "If I drown you, I'd be doing the whole tribe a favor. I bet your father would thank me personally."</p><p>Panic was beginning to set in. As his breath came back, Alaqa took in greedy gulps of air, muscles tensing all over his body as he tried to thrash, tried to throw the other boy off. It was no use, however - he was significantly smaller, and the other boy was situated in just the right way to make dislodging him impossible. Muffled as the other boy's words were, they were still a very real threat. He could die like this. He could die, and very few people - if any - would actually care.</p><p>Something primal and <em> scared </em> took hold of him then. Alaqa's hand reached out, grasping desperately in the water for something, <em> anything </em> that he might be able to use to get away. His hand wrapped around something smooth, and without an ounce of hesitation, his arm moved.</p><p>With a terrified cry spilling from Alaqa's lips, the river rock came crashing into the side of the other boy's head, colliding with a horn.</p><p>The noise registered before anything else, the sickening crack of hollow bone settling deep in the back of his throat and the pit of his stomach. The boy's weight was immediately off of him, but it took a solid moment before Alaqa had the presence of mind to sit upright. The jeering of the crowd and the rushing of the water had been overpowered and replaced by pained screams, and when he finally righted himself, he found his opponent laying in the water, cradling his broken horn and shrieking, the river around him growing pink with blood.</p><p>Icy cold terror gripped Alaqa's chest, and in an instant he knew that he'd done something unforgivable. The crowd of boys looked just as stunned, silent and staring with open mouths as their ringleader bled and wailed and suffered, but at least they were doing <em> nothing</em>. The sounds would alert an adult - if he was caught, he'd be dead. It didn't matter that he'd only been defending himself. All the adults would see was an already troublesome and socially ousted boy holding a blood-stained rock.</p><p>The rock rolled limply from Alaqa's fingers, and he fled.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. Day 5: Matter of Fact (G'raha & WoL + Alphinaud, Alisaie, & Krile)</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>G'raha Tia, Alphinaud Leveilleur, Alisaie Leveilleur, Krile Mayer Baldesion, and Ambiguous Warrior of Light.<br/>Rating: G</p><p>Matter of Fact<br/>OR<br/><i>Krile's Obligatory Embarrassing of a Sharlayan Friend Part 2: Electric Boogaloo</i></p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>In the blessedly peaceful downtime since arriving back on the Source, the Rising Stones had become quite a bit more cheerful, partially due to the fact that one room no longer contained the bodies of five near-death and soulless Scions. No longer a dreary and foreboding atmosphere, it had been host to a good number of jovial talks and animated get-togethers - most of which, in one way or another, eventually involved alcohol.</p><p>Tonight was no exception, though not everyone present tended to imbibe. While most that <em> had </em> were off in their own little cluster, having squat competitions and trying their damndest to keep their balance, Alphinaud and Alisaie were currently keeping the quite sober company of Krile, G'raha, and the Warrior of Light. Their talk had begun innocently enough - catching G'raha up on more firsthand accounts of their journeys - but when Krile had explained the situation with the Isle of Val and Eureka and garnered G'raha's scholarly fascination in return, the topic abruptly shifted to something only minorly related.</p><p>Alisaie knew that Krile had dirt on Alphinaud, having known the two were close back in their days at the Studium, but she hadn't even been aware of the fact that Krile was close enough with G'raha to address him without the tribal prefix. With a mischievous smile, she leaned into the table and parted her lips to speak.</p><p>But her words were stolen from her tongue before she could use them, painted much more innocently by the Warrior of Light. "So, what was G'raha like back in his scholarly days?" they asked, expression nearly entirely neutral save for a kind curve at the corners of their lips. </p><p>The response came in double: G'raha, whose ears flattened back in alarm and face turned <em> incredibly </em> pale, and Krile, who straightened up in her seat and practically <em> beamed. </em></p><p>"I-I was incredibly boring, I assure you!" G'raha argued with all the fervor of a man desperately trying to avoid jail time, roughly at the same time that Krile cheerfully chirped out, "Oh, I have some <em> interesting </em> stories. Would you like to hear them?"</p><p>Alisaie took the opportunity and ran with it. "Oh, please," she interjected, much to the dismay of her brother, who gave G'raha a deeply sympathetic look. G'raha simply sighed, burying his face in his hands in preparation for what was to come.</p><p>"Ah, but where to start…" Krile pondered, looking up at the ceiling in thought. "Perhaps the time he was stricken with an incomprehensible desire to scale an entire bookshelf in the middle of the night, only to knock it over? Or the time that he decided to learn to cook non-Sharlayan food to impress some of the other students… Refresh my memory, Raha, but <em> how </em> many times did the fire alarum sound?"</p><p>G'raha was silent for a long moment, face still buried in his palms. "F-five," he eventually muttered, voice muffled and ears low, and he finally let his hands drop to his lap. "In my defense, however, Sharlayan ingredients are not to be trifled with. Note that my cooking became much less bland and burnt when using ingredients imported from elsewhere!"</p><p>"But the look of it still held something to be desired," Krile stated matter-of-factly. "I still vividly recall the time you tried to make a batch of chocolates for that poor Hyuran girl you were so fond of. The look on her face when she <em> saw </em> them, let alone when she managed to take a bite—"</p><p>"Krile, <em> please,</em>" G'raha begged, tail curling beneath his seat.</p><p>"I can safely say that his cooking skills are at least much improved nowadays," the Warrior added with a smile giving G'raha hope that he at least had an ally in all of this. Unfortunately, that only lasted until the Warrior spoke again. "At least in the case of sandwiches. I recall something about a lopsided cake for Lyna's birthday…?" </p><p>"It <em> tasted </em> just fine," G'raha replied, with only a slight hint of a pout.</p><p>"I'm sure it did," Krile soothed, reaching out to gently pat her friend on his arm with a gentle smile. "Embarrassing culinary and social endeavors aside, though, G'raha was a student incredibly devoted to his field of study, and many held him in high esteem. He more than earned his status as Archon, and I am ever exceedingly proud to call him my friend."</p><p>G'raha's ears pulled forward, then, and in the light of sudden praise, he ducked his head and began to fiddle with the hem of his shirt. Silence stretched out for a moment or two as the companions let the sentiment settle, taking sips of their tea or - in the Warrior's case - fondly acknowledging the fact that G'raha had been humbled.</p><p>It didn't last for long.</p><p>"So are you going to stop mistaking fish for letter openers, then?" Alisaie quipped with a devious smile.</p><p>G'raha bolted upright in his seat, a deep pink flush spreading across his cheeks. "That was <em> one time</em>!"</p><p>"At least twice, from what I've heard," Alphinaud pointed out. Krile, unfortunately, had never heard a word of it.</p><p>"Excuse me, Raha, you did <em> what</em>?"</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0006"><h2>6. Day 6: Promise (G'raha)</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>G'raha Tia<br/>Rating: G</p><p>Promise<br/>OR<br/><i>A Letter Home</i></p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <em> To my dearest Lyna, </em>
</p><p>
  <strike> <em> I hope that this letter finds you well </em> </strike>
</p><p>
  <strike> <em> How fares the weather </em> </strike>
</p><p>
  <em> My apologies. Every way that I try to begin this letter ends up sounding absurdly formal, and after all that we have been through, you are deserving of far more than stiff formality. </em>
</p><p>
  <em> I do, truly, hope that you and the people of the Crystarium are well. I can safely say that I can rest well with the knowledge that I could have left the Crystarium in no better hands, and full glad am I that we have the Warrior to help ferry my words across the Rift to you. </em>
</p><p>
  <em> I want to begin by apologizing. It was never my wish to keep my secrets from you. I desperately longed to share what I knew and what I had experienced, but I could not, for in doing so I might have jeopardized my mission. I know now that it was foolish of me, and yet even in my final hour I feel that I could have shared much and more with you. This letter, I hope, will be the first of many attempts to remedy this. </em>
</p><p>
  <em> When I was a boy, many long years ago, my father told me stories of the ancient civilization of Allag, lost to the ages by calamity and misfortune. The Tower itself is an Allagan creation, initially used to gather energy from the sun itself to power every light and device in the Allagan Empire. These stories had been passed down to him by his father, and his father's father before that, but they were not the only thing passed down. </em>
</p><p>
  <em> It might surprise you to know that when I was born, only one of my eyes was the red color that you have come to know. This trait had been passed through the ages through my family, with its source being the Royal Family of Allag itself. Through adventures with the Warrior, I came to unlocking the full power of the trait, which gave me full control of the Tower. Being the only one left alive with the power to control it, I had sealed myself inside in the hopes that one day, when Eorzea's technology had advanced far enough, I would once more awaken to guide the people. </em>
</p><p>
  <em> Unfortunately, when I found myself awakened some two hundred years later, the world had taken a turn for the worse. The Garleans - a race of technologically-inclined people bent on usurping every ounce of power, much like ancient Allag - had released a powerful poison upon the world, disrupting the flow of aether in bodies and killing the majority of the population. Including the Scions, and the Warrior. </em>
</p><p>
  <em> The group of people that had awakened me intended to use the Tower to attempt to avert such a calamity. The world had experienced eight calamities by then, and it had been discovered that calamities were triggered by equivalent calamities on parallel worlds - Shards, they are called, as they and the Source were once one and the same - and thus their plan was to send myself and the Tower to the corresponding world to avert the calamity there. That world just so happened to be the First - Norvrandt, or what was left of it. By the time I had arrived, however, the Flood had already occurred. I was incapable of stopping it, but I still had a plan. </em>
</p><p>
  <em> It took me nearly a hundred years, but we managed to succeed, as you well know. Norvrandt has been saved, and both worlds with it. </em>
</p><p>
  <em> I am here, now, in the Source. In Eorzea. In my younger body, which had been in stasis inside the Tower ever since I sealed myself away. I look much the same as you remember me, though I no longer suffer the crystallization, and my hair has not begun to fade as it had in the First. I am also no longer so connected to the Tower that I will not age. In this body, I will live, I will grow old, and someday I will die. Considering my already long life, I can admit that I look forward to a good bit of youthful retirement. </em>
</p><p>
  <em> You probably have questions. Nay, I am certain that you do. You were ever a curious child, and I know that that same curiosity has not left you in your adulthood. That said, if you have them, I will gladly answer them. </em>
</p><p>
  <em> I wish that I could tell you these things in person, but I am glad, at least, to have the opportunity to do so in some way. </em>
</p><p>
  <em> I love you, Lyna, and I am ever proud of the woman you have grown to become. </em>
</p><p>
  <em> Your doting grandfather,</em>
</p><p>
  <em>G'raha Tia</em>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0007"><h2>7. Day 7: Nonagenarian (G'raha & OC WoL)</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>G'raha Tia and Kha'li Lakari (OC Lalafellin WoL)<br/>Rating: G</p><p>Nonagenarian<br/>OR<br/><i>What's My Age Again?</i></p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>"So, how old do you think you are now?"</p><p>G'raha looked up from the satchel he was packing, turning to aim a confused glance at the pink-haired Lalafell that was presently laying on her stomach on the bed across from his own, chin propped in her hands with her legs kicking behind her. "I-I'm sorry?" </p><p>"How old do you think you are?" Kha'li repeated, tilting her head. "I couldn't get to sleep last night, so I started crunching some numbers out of curiosity, but it only left me with more questions. You were what, twenty-four, twenty-five summers when you sealed yourself in the Tower?"</p><p>"Yes, twenty-four," G'raha confirmed, the confusion in his expression slowly dwindling as it gradually dawned on him just what she was getting at.</p><p>"Twenty-four, right," Kha'li said with a nod. "And it was two hundred years, I believe you said, before you were awakened again. So that's two-hundred and twenty-four. Adding on to that the… let's say ninety-nine years that you stayed in the First, and that brings us to three-hundred and twenty-three."</p><p>G'raha nodded in agreement, ears lowering a little in embarrassment. "That all sounds correct, though laying it all out like that makes it seem <em> quite </em> more impressive than it feels…" </p><p>Kha'li waved her hand. "It <em> is </em> impressive, G'raha, whether it feels like it or not! But anyway, <em> my point is</em>: in coming back to the Source, you're back in your old body again, and it's undone all of that! So your body hasn't aged past your mid-twenties, yet you still have over a hundred years' worth of memories. So where does that leave you?"</p><p>The Miqo’te sat in silence for a moment, lifting his hand to curl at his chin in thought. "I must admit, it's something that I've been acutely aware of since reawakening, but I'd not put much thought to it yet."</p><p>"Well, I guess it's not <em> super </em> important," Kha'li reasoned, letting her legs fall back to the bed. "Just something to think about."</p><p>"Mm," was G'raha's only reply for a few seconds as he went back to packing his satchel. The two remained in companionable silence for a good minute before his voice broke it once more. "Though, I suppose it isn't actually too difficult, when you really think about it. Physically, I'm in my mid-twenties, but you could say that I have an old soul."</p><p>Kha'li peered at him for a moment, not immediately replying in lieu of inspecting him for G'raha knew not what, but as soon as she deemed whatever it was to be acceptable, she nodded. "Whatever you say, grandpa. But if you think you're getting to go adventuring without taking your tonic, you're sorely mistaken. Chessamile's, <em> and </em> Lyna's, <em> and </em> my orders."</p><p>G'raha's ears and tail bolted upright, cheeks flushing a pretty pink. "T-tonic? Please, I feel far more energetic than I've felt in <em> ages,</em> and I—"</p><p>"No 'if's, 'and's, or 'but's," Kha'li chided, pushing herself upright in order to slide off the bed and move to grab her own pack. "Chessamile taught me the recipe <em> especially </em>so that I could make sure you continued to take it. They're all worried about you, so just smile and take it."</p><p>"... oh, alright," G'raha murmured, ears and tail going limp. He'd tolerated the bitterness of it for years now just for the sake of seeing them smile. Though he could no longer see it, what was the harm in suffering a little more?</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0008"><h2>8. Day 8: Clamor (G'raha & OC WoL)</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>G'raha Tia and Kha'li Lakari (OC Lalafellin WoL)<br/>Rating: G</p><p>Clamor<br/>OR<br/><i>Just Another Day in Ul'dah</i></p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>"Kha'li?" </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Yes, G'raha?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"What </span>
  <em>
    <span>is</span>
  </em>
  <span> that… </span>
  <em>
    <span>horrible</span>
  </em>
  <span> noise?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kha'li blinked, looking up at her companion and noting that his ears were shifting wildly between perking to listen and angling backwards to save themselves. Narrowing her eyes, she turned to lend her own ear to the fuss, and that's when she heard it: a cacophony of voices, some shouting in anger and others wailing in agony, as if the earth itself had opened up and exposed all seven hells to the surface. It was the sound of torture, of confusion, of chaos and panic and desperation, a noise that would surely strike terror into the heart of any adventurer setting out on their first journey, quietly backed by discordant chords and nauseating notes.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Oh, that," Kha'li noted nonchalantly, shrugging her shoulders. "That's just 10-Gil Kabob Night at the Quicksand. Sounds like the band is in their cups again."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"... I-I see," G'raha murmured, thoroughly baffled. It left more questions than he'd begun with, but ultimately he decided that he was better off not knowing more, and opted to keep any further questions to himself.</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0009"><h2>9. Day 9: Lush (G'raha)</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>G'raha Tia<br/>Rating: G</p><p>Lush<br/>OR<br/><i>G'raha Starts a Garden</i></p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>G'raha's quarters at the Rising Stones had been bare and bland to start with, but a month after his awakening, it was beginning to more closely resemble a greenhouse.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Pots, planters, and hanging baskets dotted the landscape of the room, any plants requiring full sun getting a priority spot near the window while others were placed farther and farther away depending on their needs. Horticulture had never been a field of expertise or even a prior interest, but he found it surprisingly comforting to care for something alive. The Tower, after all, had not been a suitable place for plants, and now that he had a new lease on life, it was perfectly acceptable to pick up a new hobby or two.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Initially, the plants had been beginner basics - planter boxes and wall hangings of decorative ivy and small shrubbery - but gradually his samples branched out into areas of Eorzea far from Mor Dhona. Wherever he traveled with the Warrior, he brought a local plant home: succulents from Thanalan, orange saplings from La Noscea, deeply fragrant flowers from the Shroud, along with many more varieties from places in Othard and Gyr Albania and the Dravanian lands that slowly began to fill his personal space. Though Krile liked to jokingly liken it to an old hermit's cabin, G'raha found his space comforting, the scent of flowers and greenery wrapping him in a warm blanket of memories of a time when his only worries had been his studies.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Krile sometimes called him a sentimental old fool, with a soft, knowing smile. He couldn't help but agree.</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0010"><h2>10. Day 10: Avail (G'raha & WoL)</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>G'raha Tia and Ambiguous Warrior of Light<br/>Rating: G</p><p>Avail<br/>OR<br/><i>The Struggle with Helper Personalities</i></p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>As the newest member of the Scions of the Seventh Dawn, G'raha knew he was a bit of a rookie. Even if he had seen countless struggles and fought numerous battles of his own, both personal and literal, he was the new kid. He was capable, certainly, and he was dependable, undoubtedly, but it didn't stop his urge to prove his worth. These were people for whom he held the utmost respect, and he would make sure that they knew.</p><p>Thus began the daily attempts to <em> help</em>. Whether it was with a small task or taking up the burdens of others, G'raha had committed himself to bearing a supporting role once more. He was only <em> minutely </em> taller than Alphinaud, therefore he had a much easier time in reshelving the books that the young Elezen had removed. He was blessed with the knowledge of imbuing aether into inanimate objects, so he was the man for the job when Thancred's bullets needed charging and Y'shtola was otherwise occupied. He was somewhat strong of muscle, therefore he was the perfect candidate for holding the striking dummy still so that Alisaie didn't knock it over in her enthusiasm.</p><p>(The last one, admittedly, had been terrifying, and G'raha had sworn that he would never do it again.</p><p>He did it again the very next day regardless.)</p><p>Following this logic, it only made sense that when the Warrior was in need of a companion for a potentially combat-oriented task, G'raha volunteered himself for the duty. He <em> was </em> an all-rounder, of course, which made him somewhat indispensable in combat - wherever there was a gap, he could fill in without issue. However, when it was the <em> Warrior </em> as his sole companion, it made planning… a bit more difficult, considering that they, too, were an all-rounder.</p><p>The Warrior could take the lead, of course, and G'raha could heal, but that would leave them without any means of pure offense, and any battles would take longer than necessary. Meanwhile, if one of them took the lead and the other took up an offensive job, there would be no healing, and if one dealt damage while the other healed it… there would be no defensive mitigation.</p><p>It was a harrowing choice, and one that G'raha pondered over heavily during their travels, weighing the pros and cons of each. Of course, the moment that he'd come to a decision, the Warrior decided to speak up from their notable silence.</p><p>"You know, I can just have my chocobo do the healing."</p><p>It took another quarter bell for the Warrior to volunteer to tank, simply to keep G'raha from talking himself in circles about possibilities and capabilities.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0011"><h2>11. Day 11: Ultracrepidarian (OC WoL + Alphinaud, Alisaie, & G'raha)</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>G'raha Tia, Alphinaud Leveilleur, Alisaie Leveilleur, and Kha'li Lakari (OC Lalafellin WoL)<br/>Rating: T (language)</p><p>Ultracrepidarian<br/>OR<br/><i>Knowledge Through Bullshit</i></p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>"I wonder how the Allagans managed to get something as large as Dalamud into orbit," Alphinaud pondered aloud.</p><p>Kha'li immediately thought of three possibilities. The first, and most likely, was that Alphinaud's question was completely and entirely rhetorical. The second was that, if it <em> wasn't,</em> G'raha would be far more qualified to answer, considering his specialized knowledge. The third was that this was <em> obviously </em> directed towards her, and she was being saddled with answering a question about something of which she had absolutely no knowledge.</p><p>Being well in her cups, she tossed the former two options out the window and ran with the latter.</p><p>"Well, they had dragons, you know," the Lalafell began, setting her cup on the table and resting her elbow on the surface matter-of-factly. "So what I figure is, Midgardsormr apparently flew through space, right? Or some bollocks, anyroad. So what's stopping the Allagans from sending more dragons up there to build a big ol' moon-prison around one of their own? It's dragons! And Allagans. Always has been, always will be."</p><p>The room remained silent. Alphinaud's eyes were wide with uncertain wonder, Alisaie appeared to be caught between looking confused and trying very hard to muffle a laugh, and poor G'raha, the only one that could possibly give <em>factually correct</em> information, was stunned into silence.</p><p>Kha'li took this as a sure sign her answer had been satisfactory, and picked up her cup once more. "Pretty fucked up, when you think about it."</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0012"><h2>12. Day 12: Tooth and Nail (WoL/G'raha)</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>G'raha Tia and Ambiguous Warrior of Light<br/>Rating: M (suggestive subject matter)</p><p>Tooth and Nail<br/>OR<br/><i>Scion in the Streets, Feral in the Sheets</i></p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>G'raha would swear up and down that his new outfit had an attached scarf for practical reasons. After all, many adventurers wore scarves - they helped in a pinch, whether it was a spontaneous duststorm or pollen from plantkin, emergency first aid or wiping the sweat from your brow after a hard day's work.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He certainly used it for practical purposes.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Throughout the day, he found himself subconsciously shifting his scarf higher than usual, wrapped around his neck instead of loosely around his shoulders. His neck was feeling a considerable draft, he'd said, though the Warrior knew the real reason.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Beneath that scarf hid the marks that his shirt couldn't reach, where teeth had taken purchase and left bruises and imprints and small cuts freshly scabbing over. Evidence of a wild night in bed, carefully covered up so as not to rouse their companions suspicions.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>G'raha afforded the Warrior a brief glance, a tiny smile with shyly tipped ears, and lifted a hand to just slightly push the scarf up into place once more before looking away at the map table while Alphinaud explained the Ala Mhigan Resistance's recent call for skilled gatherers.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The Warrior smiled back, then returned their attention solidly as ever to the map table, though they could feel sharp lines from nails burning along their own back.</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0013"><h2>13. Day 13: Youth (G'raha & WoL)</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>G'raha Tia and Ambiguous Warrior of Light<br/>Rating: G</p><p>Youth<br/>OR<br/><i>G'raha Misses His Grandkids</i></p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>"Might you do me a favor?" G'raha asked abruptly, as they began to load their burden of gifts on the boat that would carry them from the Enclave to the mainland. The Warrior looked up, blinking in confusion.</p><p>"A favor, Raha?"</p><p>"The next time that you visit the First," the Miqo'te began, ears hesitantly angling back and down as his eyes focused on the gentle lapping of the water against the boat rather than his companion, "might you check in on the children for me?"</p><p>The Warrior very nearly questioned it, but the memory of their visit to the Enclave told them all that they needed to know. The children of the Enclave had been awfully taken with G'raha, and G'raha with them. Just watching the Miqo'te, it was clear that he was missing a part of his long-held role as an entire settlement's mysterious but doting grandfather - he'd spent countless hours with the children and books, getting them to focus just as well as any seasoned instructor might simply by making it a <em>game</em>. Let the children be the teacher, and he could both learn from them and learn <em> with </em> them in the process. It had taken promises of no sweets for a week to tear the children away from their fun for supper, but for G'raha, it had clearly been a bittersweet experience.</p><p>"They're doing fine, I can already tell you that much," the Warrior assured, reaching out to pat G'raha on the shoulder. G'raha's ears jerked up and forward, tail lashing briefly against a sack of rice as if he'd been startled out of reverie. "Last I saw before leaving, the game of Exarch and Sin Eaters is still going strong. Arguably moreso, if I had my guess. They all miss you, Raha, and they won't forget what you did for them, but they're all doing just fine. You don't have to worry about them."</p><p>"O-oh," G'raha sputtered, and that was the only response out of him for a moment, stunned into humility by the reminder of just how beloved his mantle of Exarch - no, <em>he</em> - had become. With the cargo completely loaded, the boat set sail for the mainland, with G'raha and the Warrior in companionable silence in the back. Until about halfway through, anyway, when G'raha's tail thudded against the seat, and the Warrior noticed that while his hands clutched the edge of it so tightly that his knuckles were turning white, a smile stretched across his lips and emotion had turned his eyes just the faintest bit wet.</p><p>"Then, perhaps I'll send along some sweets the next time you go," he murmured, closing his eyes and rubbing at them with the heel of one hand.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0014"><h2>14. Day 14: Part (G'raha & OC WoL)</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>G'raha Tia and Kha'li Lakari (OC Lalafellin WoL)<br/>Rating: G</p><p>Part<br/>OR<br/><i>G'raha Can't Braid Himself</i></p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Waking up after such a long nap had understandably left G'raha feeling a bit weak and stiff for the first few days. He'd been begged to rest - and forced to, on occasion - but now that Krile and Kha'li had given him the clear, he was free to move around once more. The shift away from bedrest came with a very welcome gift in the form of a brand new change of clothes, courtesy of Tataru, and he had been all too eager to put them on.</p><p>However, one thing still escaped his grasp.</p><p>Kha'li looked the Miqo'te over with a discerning eye, her tiny brown-tipped nose wrinkled in disdain. "Your hair. It's… <em> something.</em>"</p><p>"'Something'?" G'raha questioned, ears immediately wilting. Unconsciously, he ran a hand over his hair, sliding down the braid in the back. For not being able to see what he'd been doing, he'd thought that he had done a fairly decent job. But, then again, his hair was… <em> much </em> thicker than it had been before he'd fallen asleep, and thicker even than it had been on the First.</p><p>As it turned out, that was exactly the problem. "The braid is uneven," Kha'li supplied, and she immediately climbed up on the bed behind him. "Sit, sit! I'll fix it for you."</p><p>"It <em> is </em> considerably more thick than I'm used to," G'raha supplied weakly in excuse, but sat down as he was told. A healer on a mission was not to be trifled with.</p><p>Kha'li's fingers were expertly combing through the mussed braid within seconds, working loose the twined strands. G'raha's hair must have been as thick as this, if not more so, after his awakening in that cursed future, but it stood to reason that being nearly a hundred years removed from it would put one out of practice. She wondered, idly, if he ever tried braiding Lyna's hair. "The problem is that you've gathered too much in one part and not enough in another. The trick is to part it all down the middle, then take a little of each to make the center part."</p><p>Within moments, her tiny fingers had parted and wound three strips of hair into a fairly solid braid. Satisfied with her work, she took a step back on the mattress, hands on her hips. "Voila! A sturdy braid, suitable for any amount of adventuring."</p><p>"Thank you," G'raha murmured reflexively, reaching back to gingerly run his fingertips along the length of it. It was certainly much larger than his old one had been, though roughly the same length, maybe a little longer. The most impressive part, however, was how smooth it was. Not a bump or hair out of place. "You're quite good at this."</p><p>"Comes with having sisters," Kha'li shrugged, grinning. "If my brothers had kept their hair long, I would have braided it for them, too. Sometimes a good braid is just sensible."</p><p>"It certainly is," G'raha agreed with a soft laugh. "I don't suppose you'll braid it for me again?"</p><p>"Absolutely not," Kha'li chided, already climbing off the bed in search of her pack. "You have to learn how to do it yourself, and if I catch an uneven braid again I'm just going to make you do it over."</p><p>G'raha let out a sigh, albeit a good-natured one. "Of course. I was only teasing, after all. You're busy enough as it is, and I would feel guilty for asking you to be my personal aesthetician."</p><p>"Oh, <em> that </em> I'll do for my own sanity," she shot back with a cheeky grin. "Consultation only, though. Now, you <em> really </em> need to get some of that hair out of your face if you're going to be a proper adventurer. Are you adverse to hair clips?"</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0015"><h2>15. Day 15: Ache (WoL/G'raha, with Krile)</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>G'raha Tia, Krile Mayer Baldesion, and Ambiguous Warrior of Light<br/>Rating: M (suggestive subject matter)</p><p>Ache<br/>OR<br/><i>Krile is an Inappropriate Friend</i></p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>"Raha, are you alright?" Krile asked, regarding her friend with a curious but heavily concerned look.</p><p>"Hm?" G'raha replied, lifting his attention to the Lalafell sitting nearby. "I feel fine, why do you ask?"</p><p>"You're limping," she answered, which immediately made G'raha's ears and tail bolt upright, and the small stack of books in his arms fell to the floor.</p><p>"I-I was just-- doing some training yesterday, that's all!" he sputtered, bending down to pick up his books - but not without a noticeable wince. "I'm not used to it yet, and I just overexerted myself."</p><p>Krile leaned forward with a knowing smile, resting her chin in her hands. "Ah, is that all? Then you should be resting, shouldn't you?"</p><p>"I'll be fine." The process of standing up was a slow and careful one, but G'raha managed it, cradling the books to his chest with a heavy exhale. It kept him, however, from seeing the expression on his friend's face. "Really, Krile, you needn't worry so about me. This body is young, and if I'm to be traveling more, I'll be exerting myself far more <em> then </em> than I am with--" </p><p>"Oh, hello, 'some training'," Krile interrupted, and when G'raha's head turned to look at her, he found her waving in greeting to someone behind him. Turning once more, he found the Warrior of Light standing in the doorway, blinking in surprise.</p><p>This, of course, caused G'raha to jolt backwards with a strangled, startled noise, returning the books very quickly to their previous placement on the floor. The entire scene had Krile absolutely <em> beside </em> herself, muffling laughter into her hands.</p><p>The poor Warrior, however, was left completely bewildered. "Have I missed something…?"</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0016"><h2>16. Day 16: Lucubration (Krile & G'raha)</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>G'raha Tia and Krile Mayer Baldesion<br/>Rating: G</p><p>Lucubration<br/>OR<br/><i>Krile Makes a Late Night Visit</i></p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>A lit and dwindling candle was nothing new in the presence of G'raha Tia. The majority of his life, it seemed, had been lived by this lonely candlelight - long nights studying in Sharlayan, nightly research in that cursed future, and a lifetime's worth of planning on the First had oft been illuminated by a solitary flame. It hadn't been <em> necessary </em> on the First, of course, but by that point it had become more of a comfort than a necessity. So many long nights with just himself, a candle, and stacks of books… </p><p>Even now, it was only a means of comfort. As he sat at his desk, book open but eyes far too bleary to concentrate on the words, a drip of tallow descended the short way down the body of a candle burned three-quarters through. A quick narrowing of his eyes at the tabletop chronometer told him that it was well after midnight, when any respectable man would have long been asleep.</p><p>A rustling outside his door caught his attention, and his ears twitched in the direction of it. Silence followed for a moment, until the very soft knocking of a Lalafellin hand broke it, and Krile's voice called, equally softly, "Raha? Are you still awake?"</p><p>G'raha sighed quietly, rubbing the sleep from both eyes with the fingers of one hand. "I am. You may enter, if you like."</p><p>It took another moment of silence, but gradually the door opened just enough to let her slip through, closing as softly as she could manage considering the current hour. She was clearly dressed for bed, or at the very least relaxation - her yellow cloak and skirts had been exchanged for a linen tunic and a pair of soft trousers, her hair down and brushed out. G'raha flashed her a weary smile, and Krile returned it with one of her own. "It's nearly a bell after midnight, you know. Whatever are you doing awake at this hour?"</p><p>"I was stricken rather abruptly with a fit of scholarly nostalgia, I'm afraid," was his reply, resting his cheek against his knuckles, elbow propped on the desk. "Though I could ask much the same about you. What has you stalking the halls like a restless spirit?"</p><p>Krile hesitated then, running her fingers through a section of hair that fell over her shoulder. "Well… to tell you the truth, I came to check on you. I'm a bit worried, Raha. Don't think that I haven't noticed your room being lit well after hours every night since you were deemed fit to roam as you pleased, or how weary you look during the day, no matter how hard you may try to mask it. I know the face of someone that's not getting enough sleep when I see one. Is everything alright…?"</p><p>It was G'raha's turn to be quiet, then, though his ears and tail didn't fail to betray him and went limp within seconds. He'd been hoping to avoid this. "'Tis nothing, really," he tried, glancing down at the book currently laying open in front of him. <em> A Treatise on Allagan Warfare and Battlefield Tactics. </em> "I've simply been trying to do my part. After all, knowing what we know now about the Ascians, it's no small coincidence how similar ancient Allag and the Garlean Empire are in their motivations. I'd thought that if perhaps someone were to do a bit of brushing up on Allagan tactics, it might reveal something that we might be able to utilize in the inevitability that the Empire comes knocking at our door, and--"</p><p>"Raha, please," Krile interrupted, expression sober and concerned. "That may very well be what you set out to do, but are you certain that shoving your nose into a book until you pass out isn't just a cover for something else?"</p><p>If at all possible, G'raha's ears wilted further at the question. Of course she would see right through him. She'd always been so perceptive." W-well," he began, licking his lips anxiously, "it's nothing serious, as I've said. I'm simply having to adjust, that's all. My mind seems to be having trouble marrying to the idea that this body actually needs rest."</p><p>Krile appeared to consider this, then crossed the floor to stand a bit closer to him. "I understand," she said, and then reached out to gently pat him on the arm. "But rest is important, especially now that you're trying to get used to the limitations of a mortal body again. A body <em> needs </em> rest to recover and grow stronger."</p><p>"I know," G'raha conceded with a sigh. "Truly, despite the fact that this body has been through quite a lengthy period of rest recently, there is nothing I would like more than to sleep. And yet…"</p><p>"And yet?" she coaxed.</p><p>G'raha sat silent in his thoughts for a moment, but when he finally spoke, his voice held an almost grave air. "You've known me since our days in the Studium. I would consider you one of my closest, most dear friends, and it is because of this that I ask you… Should I tell you a secret, will you swear to keep it between the two of us?"</p><p>Moved to silence by the sudden sincerity, Krile could only nod.</p><p>With the confirmation, G'raha took in a deep breath, and then held solid eye contact. "This entire time, I've been five moogles in a coat."</p><p>"...what?" Krile asked, bewildered, but upon closer inspection, she found that he was right. The chair that G'raha had previously been occupying was, in fact, now taken by five moogles doing their best impression of a Miqo'te, dressed in G'raha's clothing.</p><p>It was then that Krile bolted upright with a gasp, clutching the blankets on her own bed tightly as she stared blankly into the middle distance.</p><p>Moogles. <em> Moogles.</em></p><p>"Twelve forfend, but I've expended <em> far </em> too much aether," she grumbled, rubbing her face.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0017"><h2>17. Day 17: Fade (Lyna, Moren, Katliss, Chessamile, Bragi)</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Lyna, Moren, Katliss, Chessamile, and Bragi<br/>Rating: G</p><p>Fade<br/>OR<br/><i>A Garden to Walk In</i></p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The Crystal Exarch was gone, yet the Tower remained, a silent, empty, gleaming blue sentinel watching over Lakeland and the surrounding areas.</p><p>For however foreign it might have been upon its first appearance, those that had grown up in the Crystarium thought of it as an environmental staple. It was a constant presence, one of comfort and safety in an otherwise terrifying world, and its token occupant had been a large part of that. Even now, when all that was left of him was a crystalline statue, the Crystal Tower hadn't lost its message of hope - nay, his passing had all but <em> strengthened </em> it.</p><p>For the sake of continuing that message, the newfound leaders of the Crystarium had gathered in the Exedra.</p><p>"It would be a shame to leave it so empty. What do you think we should do?" Katliss was the first to ask, leading the rest of the group into a silent moment of thoughtful contemplation.</p><p>Moren was the first to speak up. "The Warrior of Darkness has ensured that there are no longer creatures hiding in the lower levels, correct? What's to say we couldn't open it to the people, then? Turn it into a monument, perhaps?"</p><p>"It would not be a wise idea to open it completely," Lyna advised, folding her arms. "At the very least, the lower levels should be sealed for the safety of the people. I have seen what lies there, and it is best kept away from hands that would know not what to do with it."</p><p>"The upper levels, though…" Chessamile trailed off, tapping her fingertips to her lips in thought. "It is quite the climb, but we <em> could </em> do something. A memorial garden, perhaps?"</p><p>"But our elderly citizens would have difficulty climbing to such heights," Bragi reasoned. "Perhaps the Tower should remain sealed, and the Exarch brought down to the people."</p><p>The four of them turned to Lyna, who had cast her eyes upwards towards the summit of the Tower. "Captain, what would you recommend?" Katliss asked softly. Out of all of them, Lyna had been the closest to the Exarch - or, as close as one could get to someone so dedicated to maintaining their shroud of mystery. Even though the five of them were now a committee of sorts, and even though everyone was grieving the loss, they could all silently agree that deferring to her feelings on the matter just felt right.</p><p>Lyna was silent herself for a long moment, during which she closed her eyes, inhaled deeply, and perked her ears. The sounds of the Crystarium surrounded her as they ever had - people living their lives, surviving in a world that had tried so hard to break them. If not for the Exarch, their lives would long have been forfeit or not existed at all. <em> This place </em> would not have existed. The entire city had him to thank, for their safety and their salvation both, and here he was, sequestered inside his Tower as he had often been. This time, though, he would not set foot outside again.</p><p>Turning around, she let her arms hang by her sides once more, but her presence was nothing but determined. "We will close the Tower, in respect for his privacy. We will create a proper memorial garden for him here, in the Exedra, where all may access it and pay their respects, and future generations can learn about the man that has made everything here possible. He would not want us to make a fuss, but he is not present to argue against it, and I am intent on making sure that his memory does not fade."</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0018"><h2>18. Day 18: Panglossian (G'raha & OC WoL)</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>G'raha Tia and Kha'li Lakari (OC Lalafellin WoL)<br/>Rating: G</p><p>Panglossian<br/>OR<br/><i>The Warrior of Fetch Quests</i></p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>"If I am to make a name for myself, I would like to start as many adventurers do," G'raha had proclaimed proudly, with an optimism that Kha'li had only seen on the most green of beginners. Nevermind that G'raha </span>
  <em>
    <span>already</span>
  </em>
  <span> had somewhat of a name for himself, but apparently it wasn't in the circle of adventuring, so it didn't apply.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Doing what?" she had questioned, which may have been her first mistake, because he seemed to take it as encouragement.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Undertaking quests for the smallfolk, of course," he had answered.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She knew where this road would lead, but he seemed so eager to take it that she didn't have the heart to tell him no.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>-----</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Perhaps she should have.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Yes, ma'am! You can count on me to deliver these grapes to your acquaintance in Bentbranch right away!" G'raha assured, looking over his shoulder as he walked away from an elderly Elezen woman, shifting the weight of a small crate full of the fruit as he went. For his current situation, he certainly seemed chipper enough, and Kha'li honestly just wanted to sit down somewhere with a coffee and nurse the headache she was beginning to get just thinking about it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"And how many is that now?" she asked wearily, pinching the bridge of her nose.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Eight," the Miqo'te answered, beaming with pride as he settled the crate on the ground to pull a small leather-bound booklet from his pouch. "They're all relatively simple deliveries, however, and all within a close range to Gridania, so it shouldn't be too difficult. We simply need to plot a course so that we won't have to do any backtracking. Besides, this is all for a good cause. These people need assistance."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"If you say so," the Lalafell sighed, shrugging her shoulders. "Seems like we might need to rent a carriage for your deliveries, then, or at least a small cart to pull behind Spinel. I hope that your fees are going to cover it without sending you completely into the red."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Oh, don't worry," G'raha dismissed with a wave of his hand. "Tataru has been generous enough to set me up with a stipend. It won't be a problem."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I certainly hope not," Kha'li murmured, eyeing the couple of crates and the sack of leather pieces that G'raha had agreed to bring from point A to point B. At least it wasn't much.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Yet, anyway.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Eight deliveries, as those sorts of errands were wont to do, quickly doubled as recipients realized they, too, had something in need of delivering. They then doubled </span>
  <em>
    <span>again</span>
  </em>
  <span> once other residents or passers-by realized that an adventurer was out looking for work, and G'raha quickly found himself buried under quite the mound of fetch quests, ranging from searching for medicinal herbs for a man's ill wife to tracking down which of the local wildlife had become a drying-smallclothes thief.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"It's for a good cause," G'raha continued to say, with a bare hint of weariness in his voice but a smile bright on his face nonetheless.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kha'li couldn't help but wonder when his breaking point would be.</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0019"><h2>19. Day 19: Where the Heart Is (WoL/G'raha)</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>G'raha Tia/Ambiguous Warrior of Light<br/>Rating: M (suggestive implications)</p>
<p>Where the Heart Is<br/>OR<br/><i>Basking in the Afterglow</i></p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>The soft sounds of distant sheep and quiet, rhythmic breathing were all that filled the air inside the small tent pitched near the edges of Mol Iloh, but G'raha's focus was trained on a sound that only he had the privilege to hear.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The Warrior's heart beat out a steady, sleepy rhythm beneath his ear, and he was honestly surprised that it hadn't already lulled him to sleep. With only the moon and its light to give away the passage of time, he couldn't be certain how long it had been since they'd curled up beneath their shared blanket, naked, satisfied, and basking in the afterglow, nor was he sure how long it had been since the Warrior's side of their conversation began to slur with exhaustion until they had stopped responding altogether, but the moonlight was no longer shining quite as brightly on the side of their tent. It was well past time for him to sleep, he knew, and yet…</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>And yet he couldn't get enough of the sound of that thrumming beat, of the soft puffs of breath that slightly displaced his hair and tickled at the fur on the back of his other ear. He couldn't get enough of the warmth that surrounded him and the warmth that bloomed within him. He couldn't get enough of the feeling of the Warrior's arm resting limply on his hip or his own arms encircling the Warrior's midsection, the slightly sticky layer of dried sweat on both of their bodies, the pleasant ache of well-exercised muscles and forming bruises.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He couldn't get enough of the fact that, after all that had happened, here he was, </span>
  <em>
    <span>happy</span>
  </em>
  <span> in a way he'd never expected would be obtainable.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>G'raha pulled in a soft breath against the Warrior's bare skin, the salty tang of sweat mixing with their natural scent and making his chest tighten. If even one thing had gone differently, he wouldn't be here to experience any of this. If his soul's attunement to the one in his younger body hadn't been successful, if the Warrior hadn't been able to survive being filled with so much Light, if his initial plan had gone off without a hitch… There were so many variables, so many possibilities, and yet everything had fallen exactly into place to leave him here, now, reaping benefits that he couldn't have possibly hoped for.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>What had he done, to deserve such a blessing? It was a question he asked himself almost daily, and he still had found no proper answer. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Before the Warrior had fallen asleep, they had been speaking of home - or the lack thereof, anyway. The Scions, of course, were a home in their own way, the Warrior having known most of them since near the beginning of their journey and G'raha having known Krile from his days in Sharlayan. It was safety and friendship, camaraderie and the knowledge that someone has your back. The Warrior, however, felt like a different sort of home: the warmth of sitting inside on a cold, snowy day with a blanket, a book, a mug of hot tea and a roaring fire, the comfort of someone caring about whether you'd eaten or not, whether you were getting enough sleep or not. Being with the Warrior felt like home in a way he hadn't experienced in a long, long, long time.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>G'raha shifted slightly, burying his face into the Warrior's chest. The Warrior roused just slightly, letting out a soft sigh and surfacing from unconsciousness just enough to shift and bury their face between soft, red ears. The Miqo'te held his breath, but when no further movement came and the Warrior's breathing returned to normal, he exhaled through his nose and closed his eyes.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He had a home. Home was with the Warrior, no matter where they might go.</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0020"><h2>20. Day 20: Blue (G'raha)</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>G'raha Tia<br/>Rating: G</p><p>Blue<br/>OR<br/><i>The World in High Definition</i></p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>At different points in G'raha Tia's life, the color blue had meant many different things.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>When he was a boy, it meant the promise of a day outside, tucked away in the boughs of his favorite tree, nose pressed into a book and imagination latching on to fantastical tales of ages past - but it also meant the river, where the other children had teased him and thrown his book in the water.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>When he was a young man, it meant the onset of evening and a long night of studying alone in peaceful silence, researching that which would one day answer his questions and earn him the respect of his superiors - but it also meant the arrival of dawn, when he was due for classes and hadn't got a lick of sleep.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>When he was a recognized scholar in his field, it meant the culmination of years of hard work, the spire of crystal rising high above the horizon as if reaching for the very stars in the sky, holding so many mysteries and beckoning him with the clarion call to adventure - but it also meant a sudden parting from any future he may have seen for himself in the bittersweet pursuit of his destiny.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>When he was an old soul, it meant hope, dreams, sanctuary and patience, the wish of the people in two entirely separate worlds and times brought together as one for the sake of salvation - but it also meant an end to his journey, for all that it had extended far longer than he'd ever anticipated.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>But now, when he was </span>
  <em>
    <span>young</span>
  </em>
  <span> again, it meant nothing but freedom, pure, uninhibited, and genuine. The skies of the Sea of Clouds, the waters of the Ruby Sea, the haze of ceruleum fog in Northern Thanalan, the glow of Allagan relics he'd never have had a chance to see otherwise - all of these things and more, given to him with the precious gift of a second chance, made possible by none other than his very own guiding star.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The current definition of blue, he decided, was his favorite thus far.</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0021"><h2>21. Day 21: Foibles (OC WoL)</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Kha'li Lakari (OC WoL)<br/>Rating: T (discussion of PTSD causes, nothing graphic)</p>
<p>Foibles<br/>OR<br/><i>How G'raha is Getting His Groove Back</i></p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Out of all the Miqo'te that Kha'li had met over the years, so very few of them seemed to have ears and tails quite as expressive as G'raha did.</p>
<p>Though, when she thought back on the days when she and her companions had been called upon to aid in the exploration of the Labyrinth and the Tower, she couldn't remember him being quite so… <em> animated</em>. Well, maybe animated wasn't the right word, exactly. He'd been theatrical and dramatic before, certainly, but it was notably different in comparison to how he was now. Part of it could be explained away simply by the passage of time, of course - in most ways, he was still the same old G'raha that she knew from back then, just a bit more mellowed. Still, the way that his ears tended to twitch this way and that or flatten down under some perceived point of embarrassment was decidedly new, as was the way that his tail sometimes curled against the back of his legs, and the way he would wring his hands when confronted with something even minutely self-indulgent. To anyone else, they might only appear to be silly little quirks, but as cute as they may have been, Kha'li had reason to be concerned.</p>
<p>She'd heard of similar things before, in some of those that had returned from Carteneau alive. Soldiers previously exuberant and energetic had come back from the battle subdued and anxious from the horrors they had seen. Her mama liked to call it 'the guilt of the living'.</p>
<p>Kha'li was keenly aware of the fact that G'raha had suffered for decades with the memory of a world torn apart at the seams and not a single soul to confide in. It wasn't healthy to bottle things up for long, nevermind for nearly a <em> century </em> as he had. She couldn't even begin to imagine what all he had seen, then, but she knew without an onze of doubt that she, too, would have been sorely affected. To this day, the horrors at the Waking Sands still haunted her dreams, and it would for the rest of her life, but at least she had companions that had been there. G'raha, for the longest time, had no one.</p>
<p>He'd come out of his shell a bit, at least, after Norvrandt had been cleansed of the Light and that horrible future had been prevented. Returning the Scions <em> and </em> himself to the Source seemed to have helped <em> immensely </em> in that regard - he'd been well on his way back to his energetic self since he'd awakened, even if it was muddled in small ways by his anxieties on occasion - and really, she couldn't have been happier to see it. Even if he was nervous about making a good impression as the newest member of the Scions, he still laughed and joked and smiled, he teased and was teased in turn. He was loved and valued and appreciated, and he had a place where he could belong.</p>
<p>He seemed genuinely <em> happy,</em> and the end of the day, it was all that Kha'li could have asked for.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0022"><h2>22. Day 22: Argy-Bargy (G'raha & Alisaie + Alphinaud & WoL)</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>G'raha Tia, Alisaie Leveilleur, Alphinaud Leveilleur, Ambiguous Warrior of Light<br/>Rating: G</p><p>Argy-Bargy<br/>OR<br/><i>Limit Break Rights</i></p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>"Sorry, but I don't speak to those that have no sense of when to properly use the Limit Break."</p><p>"Alisaie, for the last time, saving the Limit Break for more dire circumstances is only--"</p><p>"<em>You</em>," Alisaie growled, turning sharply and very firmly jabbing the tip of her index finger into the tip of G'raha's nose, sending him back a step with his ears flattened and hands up in surrender, "do not get to tell me when I can or cannot use something that is explicitly intended for ending a fight quickly."</p><p>"It <em> blinded us</em>, Alisaie," G'raha retorted, expression a comical sort of desperate. "Right when there were puddles on the floor that needed avoiding! Alphinaud nearly got caught in one!"</p><p>"This isn't about him!" she said quickly, then turned around with a sharp 'harumph!' and stalked away towards the doorway to the Rising Stones, leaving poor G'raha standing there frowning with his ears pinned back and tail lashing, wondering what exactly her problem had been.</p><p>Nearby, Alphinaud couldn't help but chuckle, patting the arm of the Warrior of Light. "It seems as if your fan club is at a disagreement."</p><p>The Warrior, in all their infinite patience, could only sigh into the palm of their hand.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0023"><h2>23. Day 23: Shuffle (G'raha & Alphinaud)</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>G'raha Tia and Alphinaud Leveilleur, background WoL/G'raha<br/>Rating: M (mature implications)</p><p>Shuffle<br/>OR<br/><i>G'raha Can't See in the Dark</i></p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>The sudden knock at the door, light as it was, brought G'raha's ears twitching upright well before his eyes opened to the dark room he'd fallen asleep in, only barely lit by a dimly burning fire in the hearth that cast less of a light and more of a faint glow from the embers. It took him a moment to register exactly </span>
  <em>
    <span>what</span>
  </em>
  <span> the noise was, but as soon as it did, he pulled in a quick, sharp breath and turned to slip himself out of the tangle of limbs and bedsheets.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And lost his balance, promptly falling to the floor with a notable thud. Gods, what a time to be completely uncoordinated.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"C-coming, one moment!" he called, voice thankfully not breaking too badly in his embarrassment. Right, he couldn't answer the door until he put some clothes on. At least his smallclothes and a shirt. It shouldn't be too difficult to find.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Except, in the darkness of the room, it was nigh impossible. G'raha's eyes narrowed as he felt along the floor, hand shifting from carpet to stone and then-- ah, </span>
  <em>
    <span>there</span>
  </em>
  <span> was the pile of clothes that they'd so haphazardly thrown to the ground hours before. Without the boon of light, though, it was impossible for him to tell what was what. Searching fingers prodded for pockets and familiar hems, expression schooled into extreme concentration. It didn't take long for him to find his trousers - better than smallclothes, he supposed, though smallclothes were both equally important and terrifyingly absent at present - but the shirt was escaping him. Where had it gone? He'd been so sure that they'd thrown everything in the same general place…</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Soft fabric appeared under his fingertips then, and after confirming that it was, indeed, a shirt, he settled on it. Better this than nothing, and he wasn't about to leave whoever it was standing at the door for a quarter bell. He was considerably faster in pulling his things on than he was in finding them, at least, and in moments he was standing, raking his fingers through his hair as he moved to the door.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Upon opening it, he found Alphinaud, standing with a small pouch in hand. The boy's expression was one of kind patience - or, at least, it was to start. It very quickly moved into something vaguely flustered, and he glanced away with a forced politeness. "My apologies for disturbing you. I hope I haven't interrupted anything…?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"N-no, no, of course not," G'raha assured him, waving his hand before lifting it to smooth over his hair and ears. "What is it you have there, then?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The question seemed to shake Alphinaud out of his embarrassment. "Ah, yes," he began, lifting up the hand holding the pouch and holding it out to the Miqo'te. "This is your monthly stipend from Tataru. She has other matters to attend to, so she entrusted me with the task of passing them out."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Oh. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Oh.</span>
  </em>
  <span> Yes, right, the stipend," G'raha repeated, reaching out to take the pouch from Alphinaud. "Though, could you not have waited until morning to deliver this? N-not that you've interrupted anything, of course!"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Alphinaud just stood and stared for a moment, clearly hesitating. "It… </span>
  <em>
    <span>is</span>
  </em>
  <span> morning," he decided eventually, furrowing his brow in confusion. "You were not in your quarters, so I'd decided to ask the Warrior if they happened to know where you'd gone." </span>
</p><p>
  <span>It was G'raha's turn to stare blankly for a moment. Of course. Of </span>
  <em>
    <span>course,</span>
  </em>
  <span> he'd come to the Warriors room the night before, not his own. In his own room, the light of day would have been coming through his windows, but the Warrior slept with heavy curtains over theirs to block out the light.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Ah. Yes," was his only reply.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Alphinaud stood in silence for a moment longer, hand on the strap of the satchel that contained the individually pre-packaged stipends. "You, ah. You may want to reconsider your clothing choices, by the by." Though his cheeks were turning a bit pink, he still motioned vaguely to the side of his own neck. It didn't take long for the sudden realization to wash over G'raha: his neck and shoulders were considerably more exposed than usual, revealing every bite and bruise that he knew must have littered his skin there. This shirt was not quite the right size for him, and therefore was not his.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Yes! Of course! Thank you, Alphinaud," G'raha all but wheezed out in a rush of air, turning to usher the boy away from the door. "I'm certain you have other stipends to deliver, so I won't keep you! Ah. B-but please, keep this to yourself…?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"O-of course," Alphinaud replied. He didn't need an excuse to get going, and that was exactly what he did. The young Elezen took a step back from the doorway with a bow and began to walk away, leaving a bewildered G'raha standing in a shirt that was definitely not his size, pressing his hands to his face, wondering when the earth beneath his feet might possibly get around to opening up and swallowing him whole.</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0024"><h2>24. Day 24: Beam (G'raha & WoL)</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>G'raha Tia &amp; Ambiguous Warrior of Light<br/>Rating: G</p>
<p>Beam<br/>OR<br/><i>Man I Love Fishing</i></p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>The warm light of the midday sun shone through the uppermost boughs of the trees, dappling everything with flecks of gold that danced and swayed with the gentle breeze, occasionally catching on the scales of a fish or the ripples on the water as a line was thrown into the river. The entire scene was picturesque, right down to the Warrior of Light leaning back peacefully on one hand at the riverside and the Miqo'te laying on his back in the soft grass beneath a tree, hands folded beneath his head and book splayed open, pages down, across his stomach.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The pinpoints of light scattered across G'raha's eyelids, but it hardly bothered him. He wasn't asleep, but he wasn't exactly awake, either - somewhere blissfully between, lulled into a state of relaxation by the babbling of the stream, the gentle rustling of the leaves, and the soft wind brushing past his hair and ears. Fishing trips with the Warrior of Light were often impromptu, and while he never did much in the way of fishing himself, he certainly celebrated the excitement of a catch whenever it happened. It had been a while since the last one, however, and companionable silence didn't lend itself well to keeping him awake when the sunshine and the breeze and the soft grass had it out for him.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Thankfully, the river chose to be benevolent, for it wasn't too long until it gave of its bounty and the Warrior began to reel something in. The soft sounds of excitement and anticipation were what caught his ears first, but the sudden splashing brought his eyes open, wrist quickly moving to block the sunlight out before it could blind him.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>As the brightness of the sudden light faded and his vision returned to clarity, G'raha was gifted with the sight of the Warrior, waders on and knee-deep in the water, holding a fish up by the line and positively </span>
  <em>
    <span>beaming</span>
  </em>
  <span> at him. It wasn't a new sight by any means, but this, </span>
  <em>
    <span>this</span>
  </em>
  <span> was what G'raha truly celebrated when they reeled in a catch. Not the fish, not the skill - impressive though it may have been - but the way that the victory made their face light up each and every time.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>G'raha couldn't help but smile right back. Truly, there was no better sight in all the world than the Warrior's happiness, no matter its origin.</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0025"><h2>25. Day 25: Wish (G'raha & Lyna, G'raha & WoL)</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>G'raha Tia, Lyna, Ambiguous Warrior of Light<br/>Rating: G</p>
<p>Wish<br/>OR<br/><i>Shooting Stars</i></p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>G'raha could very clearly remember the first time that he heard Lyna, as an adult, gasp in wonder.</p>
<p>It was after dark, a night just after the full liberation of Norvrandt from the oppressive Light. Forcing himself to take just a short break from his efforts, he'd climbed the stairs to his favorite place, to feel the breeze on his face and ears for just a moment before sequestering himself back to the Umbilicus until Lyna inevitably coerced him into respite once more.</p>
<p>Lyna had, of course, joined him, for he so clearly needed a guard to ensure he didn't keel over and off of the platform entirely.</p>
<p>The two had been standing in companionable silence for a few moments, staring at the starry night sky, when it happened. The sound had startled G'raha out of his thoughts, eyes focusing in that exact second on the movement in the sky that had caused such a sound - a shooting star, streaking across the sky.</p>
<p>"My lord, did you--?"</p>
<p>G'raha felt his lips pull into a smile. It had been quite some time since he'd heard such childlike awe in her voice. "Indeed. That would be a shooting star." He'd turned to her, then, regarding her with all the fondness he had years before when he'd let her into the Ocular and shown her the stars. "Where I am from, there was a story about them."</p>
<p>"A story?" Lyna had replied. "What kind of story?"</p>
<p>"If you make a wish upon a shooting star, it will undoubtedly come true," he'd relayed, turning his eyes to the stars once more. "I've no clue if the tale is true or not, of course, but if there is one thing that Norvrandt could use right now, it is the hope of a wish."</p>
<p>"A wish…" Lyna had murmured to herself, but G'raha's ears had been keen enough to pick up on not just her words, but the curious tone as well.</p>
<p>"Will you make a wish, Lyna?"</p>
<p>"I'm afraid I am long past the childish desires of wishes on stars, my lord."</p>
<p>But, G'raha knew, she had made one anyway.</p>
<p>———</p>
<p>All of this had come back vividly to G'raha's memory upon seeing a shooting star in the night sky over Thanalan. Eyes trained to the heavens, he leaned back on one hand, the glow of the campfire only muting the dimmest of stars from his vision.</p>
<p>"Lyna… I wonder if your wish ever came true?" he pondered softly.</p>
<p>The Warrior, sitting next to him, turned their head to look at him. "Mm? What about Lyna?"</p>
<p>G'raha closed his eyes, shook his head, and laughed quietly. "Ah, 'tis nothing. I was only recalling her first experience seeing a shooting star, that's all."</p>
<p>"After your return to the Crystarium?" the Warrior asked, and G'raha nodded in confirmation. They returned to a comfortable silence, then, watching the stars, the occasional one streaking across the sky in a quick blaze of color.</p>
<p>Just looking at G'raha, the Warrior had a suspicion as to what Lyna's wish had been. If their suspicions were correct, then her wish had, indeed, already come true several times over.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0026"><h2>26. Day 26: When Pigs Fly (G'raha, Krile, OC WoL)</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>G'raha Tia, Krile Mayer Baldesion, Kha'li Lakari (Lalafellin WoL)<br/>Rating: G</p><p>When Pigs Fly<br/>OR<br/><i>A Long-Awaited 'Gotcha' </i></p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>"Kha'li?"</p><p>"Yes, Raha?"</p><p>"You've quite the extensive minion collection, do you not?"</p><p>Kha'li turned to look at the Miqo'te, raising her eyebrow. "Yes? Why?"</p><p>G'raha fidgeted with his hands, but the grin on his face and the way his ears stood completely upright looked <em> very </em> much like he was proud of himself. "And you've found a porxie as well, yes?"</p><p>"Yes," she answered again, somewhat more slowly, eyes narrowing in suspicion. "What exactly is this about?"</p><p>"May I borrow it?"</p><p>———</p><p>"Krile?"</p><p>"Yes, Raha?"</p><p>"Do you remember that time, back when the both of us were still but young students, when I had asked you to mentor me in the ways of the healing arts?"</p><p>"Yes, and I remember declining your request at the time due to your exuberance and for the benefit of focusing your efforts on what you <em> truly </em> wanted to study."</p><p>"Ah," G'raha corrected, "but that was not the exact wording you used at the time. I believe it was more along the lines of 'when pigs fly'."</p><p>Krile frowned at the ledger she'd been double-checking for Tataru, but did not turn around or even look up. "Raha, what point are you trying to get at…?" </p><p>G'raha merely cleared his throat, but did not answer otherwise. When a good few moments had passed and he still had not answered, Krile sighed and turned around, lips parted to reiterate her previous question--</p><p>Only to find G'raha, looking somewhat smug and gesturing with both hands at a small pig, whose ears seemed to have been turned into wings for the express purpose of flying.</p><p>Krile stared in wide-eyed surprise for a handful of seconds, until the correlation between G'raha's words and the flying pig clicked in her mind, at which point she let out an almost pained noise as her hand lifted to massage the bridge of her nose. "Oh, for Thaliak's sake…"</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0027"><h2>27. Day 27: The Sun (G'raha/OC WoL)</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>G'raha Tia/F'lori Fauhn (Miqo'te Warrior of Light OC, borrowed from <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/NilNova/">NilNova</a>)<br/>Rating: EXPLICIT</p><p>The Sun<br/>OR<br/><i>No Longer Seeking</i></p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>For more information on F'lori, please read my previous and equally explicit story, <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/23194861">Eulogy</a>!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>G'raha Tia was a Seeker of the Sun. He'd always heard that it had been a nod to the clan's more diurnal nature, or because many tribes worshipped the Warden at one point or another, but at the moment, the thought struck him as incredibly funny.</p><p>After all, though he may have never exactly worshipped the Warden himself, he was certainly worshipping his guiding star.</p><p>G'raha adored the way that F'lori jumped beneath his lips and teeth, the way that his stomach tensed up as fingers ran over the gentle bumps of abdominal muscle and up to gently brush over defined pectorals. A part of him mourned the fact that he had to tie the other Miqo'te's hands above his head just to be able to do this - for the other man would surely shy away from such direct praise and attention otherwise - but another part reveled in it, knowing that F'lori was spread out naked before him and beneath him, completely at his mercy and unable to turn the tables on him so easily.</p><p>"You are my brilliant star," G'raha murmured softly into one wildly twitching brown-furred ear, "and I am but a simple moon, following your light and reflecting it. But what is reflection if not the most humble form of worship?"</p><p>His lips moved down, then, teeth pinching out tiny trails along the curve of F'lori's jaw, down to the cord of muscle at the side of his neck. He could feel the other man squirming beneath him, could hear his breath hitching and his throat clicking with a desperate swallow, and <em> wicked white </em> but it all sent a throb straight between his legs. He let out an appreciative groan, muffled by F'lori's shoulder as he moved down, down, down, dragging his vaguely-textured tongue over a nipple on the way and only briefly pausing to press a kiss to it.</p><p>F'lori couldn't respond, of course - he'd made certain of that by fashioning a gag out of a bit of cloth - but that just made it all the more fun. Praise couldn't be dismissed that way.</p><p>"You deserve this, of course," he continued, bumping his nose against the gentle slope of pectoral muscle descending down to F'lori's abdomen. "Though I've only been able to reflect your light from afar in the past, I've now been given the rather exceptional opportunity to bask in it up close, and I am not about to let this chance slip idly by."</p><p>F'lori let out a muffled groan, triggering a soft echo from G'raha as he let his tongue trail lower, dipping into the gentle indents of abdominal muscles and nipping red marks across the soft expanse of skin above his eventual prize. Anxious though F'lori may have been under the weight of such adoration, the jut of his cock against G'raha's throat was impossible to miss, and G'raha made a soft noise of appreciation. As much as he wanted to continue showering the dark knight with unfettered affection, the desire to get on with it was growing stronger with each sympathetic ache in his own pants.</p><p>He settled, instead, on a compromise. G'raha moved lower, only pausing a moment to nuzzle the coarse curls around the prize he wanted so badly to claim, letting his breath brush against heated and desperate skin but giving no real relief. F'lori whimpered, briefly straining against G'raha's weight pinning him down and the rope binding his wrists to the head of the bed, but it earned him no respite. Instead, the affections moved lower to F'lori's thighs, G'raha gently pressing them apart as he leaned down to drag teeth and lips over the soft, sensitive inner side of one. Before he moved on, he was determined to bruise that tanned skin, to leave a mark that would ache for days. </p><p>In his peripheral vision he caught a glimpse of a flicking russet tail, trying its best to squirm up between F'lori's legs. Knowing just how hard their tails could hit when not under control, he reached out to pin it to the bed with his hand. Better safe than sorry.</p><p>The mark, in the end, came out as angry as he could possibly make it, and G'raha sat up to lick his lips in satisfaction. Poor F'lori seemed so beside himself - his head tossing and turning weakly, ears limp and eyes glassy - that he almost felt sorry for making his lover wait so long. In the end, though, he had every ounce of confidence that F'lori would come out of this limp and satisfied. He deserved every bit of this, and G'raha wasn't about to fall short of perfect.</p><p>"I wonder," G'raha breathed out against the head of F'lori's cock, "what one would call a Seeker that has found his sun?"</p><p>He gave no chance for F'lori to respond, though F'lori couldn't have even if he wanted to. The descent of his lips around F'lori's cock bordered on painfully slow, but to G'raha it was nothing but reverent. His tongue slid along every inch of the length, mapping out veins and textures and curves as if committing them to memory, his fingers taking up residence in the ilm or two of the shaft not enveloped in the warm, wet heat of his mouth. Against his gag, F'lori moaned softly, legs straining against nothing for a moment as G'raha's tongue circled him and raised to rub firmly against the head.</p><p>G'raha finally set to moving, and it was slow and thorough, deep and warm and loving. No ilm of his cock went without sensation; no ilm of nearby skin went without being stroked by soft fingers. The hand holding F'lori's tail to the bed eventually joined the effort, leaving G'raha's tail winding with his, twined together as their fates had been. The air was filled with the soft sounds of heavy breath, of wet skin and groans and whimpers, and for every moment G'raha's ears were perked forward to appreciate each and every response.</p><p>When F'lori inevitably came, it was against G'raha's tongue, lapped up earnestly as if spilling even a drop would be a sin. To G'raha, it most certainly would be.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0028"><h2>28. Day 28: Irenic (G'raha & Alisaie)</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>G'raha Tia &amp; Alisaie Leveilleur<br/>Rating: G</p><p>Irenic<br/>OR<br/><i>Peace Is Only An Option Sometimes</i></p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>A brief sequel to the Argy-Bargy prompt fill.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>A knock sounded on Alisaie's door sometime in the early evening, just as she was settling down to rest after a hard afternoon of abusing the local striking dummies. It was a bit too early for a dinner call, and it most certainly <em> wasn't </em> one considering the person knocking didn't immediately follow with such an announcement, so when she opened the door it was with a mild note of annoyance.</p><p>She was met by G'raha, who was glancing down the hallway with his tail twitching behind him and his fingers playing with the simple ribbon tying closed the small burlap pouch in his fingers. The sound of the door startled him out of his nervous distraction just enough to bring his attention back around, and while he regarded Alisaie with an anxious smile, his tail remained completely still behind him. "Ah, you're in! I was hoping I'd be able to catch you. Apologies if I'm disturbing anything…?"</p><p>"You're disturbing nothing aside from me relaxing after a long day," Alisaie sighed with a vague wave of her fingers, in a tone that G'raha had difficulty reading. Either she was genuinely annoyed by the interruption, or she was only playing it off. Thankfully, before he could question it, her attention was grabbed by the pouch in his hands. "What is that?"</p><p>"Oh! Yes, this," G'raha replied, holding the pouch out to her. "I, ah. I wasn't certain if I'd truly offended you the other day, in regards to the Limit Break… But I wanted to make it up to you regardless. So, these are for you, and I apologize if there are any hard feelings."</p><p>Alisaie regarded the pouch for a moment with a raised eyebrow, then took it from G'raha's palm for a closer look. A familiar smell emanated from the bag, one that only took a second to place, and as she pulled the ribbon her suspicions were confirmed.</p><p>Ginger cookies. An entire batch of them, small and in various shapes, and smelling fairly fresh to boot. The shapes were… well, they were <em> shapes</em>, certainly, though just at first glance she couldn't exactly tell what they were supposed to be.</p><p>"Goodness, where did you get these? They look like they were made by a child."</p><p>"I… made them myself," G'raha replied, ears cocked in a way that made him look like he was caught halfway between looking hurt and looking offended.</p><p>Almost immediately, Alisaie felt bad for saying it. "Oh," she replied, blinking down at the cookies for a moment more and then closing the bag with a huff. "Well, it's a good effort, I suppose, though your technique could use some work if you want them to be recognizable as <em> anything.</em> There aren't any hard feelings, either, before you go getting more ideas."</p><p>"Oh, I see." But rather than look offended, G'raha seemed to be incredibly relieved, even going so far as to let out a soft laugh. Behind him, his tail was swinging once more in lazy arcs. "Admittedly, they looked a <em> bit </em> more recognizable before I'd baked them, but I'll try to keep that in mind for the next time."</p><p>"As you should," was Alisaie's rather default reply as she turned to set the pouch on a nearby table. As she moved, however, a thought struck her, and she turned around rather quickly, narrowing her eyes at G'raha, who suddenly felt as if he were beneath the scrutinizing gaze of a picky buzzard. "Who told you that I liked ginger cookies?"</p><p>G'raha smiled awkwardly, ears tilting backwards. "Ah. Alphinaud did."</p><p>Alisaie was silent for only a second, but G'raha didn't miss the slight movement of her free hand clenching into a fist. "Oh, I'm going to <em> kill </em> him."</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0029"><h2>29. Day 29: Paternal (G'raha & OC WoL)</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>G'raha Tia &amp; Kha'li Lakari (Lalafellin WoL)<br/>Rating: G</p><p>Paternal<br/>OR<br/><i>In This House We Love and Harass G'raha</i></p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>"So, are you going to look for a surrogate at some point?" Kha'li asked out of the blue.</p><p>Luckily, Alphinaud had abandoned his seat across from them at the table just minutes before, so he completely avoided the sudden spray of tea courtesy of G'raha, who spent a good moment coughing before creaking out, "I-I beg your pardon?"</p><p>Kha'li, unfazed, simply leaned forward on the table. "Well, you know," she began to explain, waving a hand for emphasis. "If you're not sealing yourself in the Tower anymore, someone is going to have to carry on the responsibility of controlling it, right? So you'll need to pass on your bloodline, but I know that that sort of thing isn't exactly <em> possible </em>with you and F'lori."</p><p>G'raha's face, as Kha'li spoke, became progressively more flushed. "W-well, I suppose that <em> is </em> true, to some extent," he agreed weakly, ears flattening down in embarrassment at the topic. "However, i-it isn't something that I'm exactly concerned about at the moment…? I mean, the barriers that Krile and I have put into place will hold for quite some time, and I am still young, a-and… Well, there is plenty of <em> time</em>, after all--" </p><p>"Are you not attracted to women?" Kha'li's question seemed innocent enough. It was, but only partially.</p><p>G'raha, incidentally, suddenly wanted to crawl into a hole and die.</p><p>"Th-that's not it at all!" he replied, voice breaking only a little. "It's just that-- W-well, I have some, ah. Reservations. But that is neither here nor there! The future of the Tower's caretaker is not what is important right now."</p><p>"Shhhh," Kha'li soothed, reaching out to gently pap the Miqo'te on the arm. "I'm only teasing you, Raha. You have plenty of time to think about the future, and you shouldn't rush it. Enjoy what you have right now, and worry about the rest later. You deserve it."</p><p>G'raha felt his ears beginning to burn just a little, and he turned his head away, cradling his face in one hand. "How kind of you to say so…"</p><p>"But, when you <em> do </em> get there, I get to be the fun, rich aunt."</p><p>"No!!"</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0030"><h2>30. Day 30: Splinter (G'raha)</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>G'raha Tia<br/>Rating: G</p>
<p>Splinter<br/>OR<br/><i>A Special Project</i></p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>G'raha's hands were that of a scholar, of an archer - the calluses he had were from pens and the nocks of arrows, not from tools and manual labor. Despite this, his determination for taking on challenges outside his realm of experience had already proven to be nothing but admirable, and it was with that same determination that he, a man who had never crafted anything in his life outside of a meal, decided to make something of wood.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He'd never even set foot in a woodworking shop before, let alone touched a tool or knew the difference between them, but he was nothing if not a quick study. An afternoon or two spent with Beatin had given him quite the primer, and while the guildmaster had offered to do the work for him personally, G'raha had been adamant about completing his project himself. The only thing that he had conceded upon was aid in the fine details of the design, which he may not have thought of otherwise in his inexperience, and a minute amount of supervision. Beatin had not been about to let an amateur have free reign of his workshop, no matter who he was.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>With the guildmaster's blessing, G'raha set to work. There were, of course, a few test pieces made with cheaper cuts of wood that were somewhat easier for a beginner to work with than what his planned final project called for, to give himself an opportunity to familiarize himself with both the tools and the way the wood worked. It was not easy work, but he didn't mind, even when his hands had been worked red and sore and he'd removed more splinters from his fingers than he'd ever obtained in his childhood of climbing trees. Completing this was well worth the blood and sweat shed in the process. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He'd made four in total, bit by bit over the course of a couple of weeks, by the time he - and Beatin, who had kept up with supervision as if G'raha were one of his own workers - decided that he was ready for the final attempt.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>All in all, the final process only took a day. G'raha excused himself from any responsibilities with the Scions and came in just before the break of dawn, barely even taking a break for sustenance throughout the day - he wasn't in a hurry, heavens no, but he didn't dare make his final product in bits and pieces as the test versions had been. In order to make it to the best of his ability, he wanted a full day where his focus would be on nothing else.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>After hours of carving, sanding, smoothing and varnishing, his project was complete - or, at least, as complete as it could be while the varnish was still drying. The hardest part of the work was done, and it would give him time to retrieve the hinge and the inner cloth he'd commissioned from the Blacksmith and Weaver guilds respectively. Once he had those, Beatin could help him to properly apply them, and his piece would truly be complete.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>G'raha inspected his work with an air of satisfaction. It may not have been the most professional-looking, and it may not have been worthy of being any sort of showpiece, but it was made by his own two hands. To him, that was the most important thing.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Ambitious, but pretty, for an amateur," a Keeper woman commented, peering around his shoulder with a hum of approval as she carried her own supplies back to her work area. "Must be for someone very special."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Yes," G'raha confirmed, resisting the temptation to run his fingers fondly along the surface of the still-drying, fish-shaped ring box lid. "It certainly is."</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Thank you guys so much for sticking through the whole thing with me! It's been so much fun to fill all of these prompts and I'm so, so proud of myself for keeping up with it every single day. It's been such a great exercise for me, especially in not being overly picky and scrutinizing of my own work before submitting it.</p>
<p>I hope y'all have enjoyed what you've read, and thank you for all the kudos and kind words! &lt;3</p>
        </blockquote><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Follow me on twitter @ <a href="http://www.twitter.com/lalafell_txt">lalafell_txt</a>!</p></blockquote></div></div>
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